Return For A Change
by Otie1983
Summary: When Grissom receives an emergency phone call notifying him of a death, he returns home to attempt to deal with the changes that come up following the loss. CFO Challenge entry.


**Author's Note**: A hoy hoy, this is my entry for the CFO Fan Fiction Challenge "Ch-Ch-Changes", with the prompt Grissom and/or Sara go through a change and the restriction of being 1k words or less. Also highly recommend everyone checks out CSI Forever Online, it's only just started up and it's already total awesomesauce!  
>I don't own anything, except for my mistakes, and frankly if anyone wants those they can have them!<p>

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><p>"Cold is the water<br>It freezes your already cold mind  
>Already cold, cold mind<br>And death is at your doorstep  
>And it will steal your innocence<br>But it will not steal your substance"  
>-Timshel, Mumford &amp; Sons<p>

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><p>Letting his fingertips slowly trace the grain in the wood of the door, Grissom shook his head and swallowed the lump that was steadily building in his throat. Cringing at the volume of the creak as he opened the heavy door, he stepped into his home. <em>Their home<em>. The silence that met him steadily grew louder as he catalogued the changes since his last visit. Namely there was no wife or dog coming to greet him with a hug and excitedly barking. Dropping his eyes to the floor at the top of the stairs a brief smile touched his face as he saw Hank had yet to destroy the buzzing mosquito toy Sara had given the dog for his previous birthday. Guilt suddenly washed over him, a sick wave condemning him for feeling even an ounce of joy when he should be focused on mourning. Another hard swallow and he pocketed Hank's toy, knowing he would have to pick up the dog in a few hours.

A deep sigh escaped him as he saw the half-finished cup of coffee and bowl of cereal. Walking over to the counter with the dishes in his hands, he wondered whether it was a work page that had caused Sara to leave without finishing her breakfast, or if Hank had been particularly excited about going out that evening. Staring into the coffee mug at the swirl of cream that had come out of solution, Grissom winced. He supposed it didn't really matter. Dumping the liquid down the sink and the mushy cereal in the waste he cursed at the sting of tears in his eyes. It was just her leftover breakfast, not something for him to get emotional over, and yet he found he couldn't help himself.

He needed to lie down, get a bit of rest, and then he'd have better control over his emotions. He hadn't slept since he got the phone call over 36 hours ago. An emergency flight out from Peru, which naturally took him further out of his way than if he were able to pick a flight at leisure, so from there he had to endure a stopover before he could actually get a flight into Vegas. And for what? To arrive in time for a funeral? It was already too late for him to say any last words or express his feelings by the time he'd received the phone call. Now he was in Vegas with another day to spare before the Wake. Tremors began to hit him as he stepped into the bedroom. His eyes were filled with tears from the loss, frustration, confusion, and just from being alone when all he wanted more than anything was to be a little boy who could crawl into his mother's bed and hear her say this was all just a horrible nightmare. Grasping onto Sara's pillow for whatever comfort it could offer him, he let the sobs take over his body. After what felt like hours, but was really mere minutes, his breathing hitched and the sobs lessened. A few more minutes passed and soon he was asleep, the tear tracks lining his cheeks.

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><p>It was just before seven am when his dreams woke him. In them everything was fine; he'd never received any phone call telling him the horrible news of his loss. Instead, he was coming home just for a simple visit. To enjoy time with his wife, play with his dog, visit his mother. Yet, there was a nagging sense in his dreams that it was all wrong, and that nothing was really fine. A shuddering breath and a jolt and he was awake, sitting straight up in bed with tears threatening again.<p>

"Hey," her voice was gentle, but strong enough to cut through the silence that had been screaming at Grissom since he walked into their home.

"Sara, oh God, I –" the words stuck in his throat, the lump had grown too large and swallowing just made his tears fall faster.

"I know, I'm right here Gil, I'm going to be here with you through this baby." Her arms encircled Grissom and she whispered to him softly as she rubbed his back through his sobs. She softly kissed his temple before pulling back just long enough to stroke his cheek and wipe away his tears. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you got in Gil, Catherine felt horrible calling me in, but she was swamped."

"It's, uh-" nodding Grissom squeezed Sara's hand tightly, "I figured you got called in. You left your breakfast half eaten." Sara quirked a tiny smile before stroking Grissom's arm, urging him to continue. "I figured I'd be able to pick Hank up before you got home, I guess not, huh?"

"No, I managed to leave before I would have if it was my actual shift. But we can go get him together later, okay?" Watching her husband nod his agreement, she pushed forward. "Gil, are you going to be okay with this? I know it's hurting, but I want to do whatever I can to make it hurt less, you know?"

"I know, Sara, I do. It's just," sighing he shrugged "I feel guilty."

"For not being there, baby, it happened so fast, you can't feel guilty!"

"No, well, yes. It's partly that. But more, it's that she's the one who had the stroke and passed, but all I'm able to think of is I'm now an orphan. I'm 55 years old, Sara, and I'm upset that I'm an orphan. That's why I feel guilty." Burying his face into his hands he let out a frustrated cry.

"Oh Gil, sweetie, no. Your Mom believed she was going 'home', she was at peace with what was happening to her. It's okay to think of it in terms of how it impacts you, that's how we, the living, deal with the loss." Lifting his head she smiled at him. "She loved you very much, Gil."

"I loved her too."

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I stole Grissom's orphan comment from my Mother's reaction to when her Father (my Grandfather) died in '04. It was one of those comments that sort of stuck... so I figured it'd be a basis for the 'change' aspect of the challenge. Definitely recommend listening to Timshel by Mumford & Sons to set the tone for this piece.


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